The British and The Mole
by VenusVienne
Summary: What happens when Gregory runs into a mischievously charming mole?


One fine evening a little British boy put on his favorite orange button-up blouse and his brown trousers, and went outside for an evening stroll. He took along his favorite rapier and decided to practice his form in a well secluded area. During his practice a pesky rabbit got in his way and caused him to trip. He cursed the rabbit and the rabbit stopped to turn around and face him. The rabbit gave the boy a sly smile that almost looked like he was mocking the British boy and this did not sit well with the boy so he began to pursue the rabbit. He chased the rabbit a good 5 minutes before he realized something: his rapier was nowhere in sight! He frantically retraced his steps but his chase with the rabbit disoriented him. He sighed in defeat and sat upon a rock. He rested his face upon the palm of his hand and tried to remember where his rapier could have gone but a small noise interrupted his thoughts.

_Oowok_.

'What was that?' He wondered.

_Oowok_.

"There it is again. It sounds like a dying giraffe." He looked around but to his dismay he couldn't find the source of that noise. "Hello?" There was no reply. 'I must be going crazy... There are no giraffes around here.' He thought to himself.

"Oi, you."

"Who's there?"

"You've lost something, non?"

"Who are you? Show yourself!" The boy demanded looking around.

"Oi. Down 'ere."

The blond-haired boy followed the sound of the voice and laid his eyes on a little mole. "Were you the one speaking to me?"

"Oui. I am 'Ze Mole'. Enchanté."

'A mole that speaks french... I must be going insane.' The thought. "What do you want?"

"Did you lose a sword?"

"Yes. Yes I did! Do you know where it is?"

"Oui. It fell down a 'ole. I can retrieve eet for you under one condition..."

"What condition?"

In a low husky voice the mole replied. "You must kiss me."

"What! No! Absolutely not! How dare you you repulsive creature!" The boy was horrified. He had to kiss this disgusting creature? Never in his life did he ever expect to be in this situation.

The mole narrowed his beady eyes but he kept his temper down. "Well zen, I guess you do not want your sword..." The mole teased.

"...Why do I have to kiss you?"

"You see... I was cursed by some fat bastard." The mole scorned the memory of the one who cursed him. "I used to be 'uman, you know. Ze onl'ee way I can become 'uman again is eef I get kissed so eef you kiss me I get you your sword. Eet ees onl'ee fair, non?"

"How do I know this isn't just some sick joke?"

"You 'ave my word. Eef zis ees a joke zen you may kill me."

The boy was silent for a moment before he finally decided. "Very well. I'll do it." He figured that after he got his sword back he could kill the thing and feed it to one of the dogs.

The mole smiled. "Merci. What did you say your name was again?"

"My name is Gregory. Gregory of Yardale." He stated proudly.

The mole's smile grew wider. "Well zen, Gregory of Yardale, shall we?"

Gregory's face fell when the mole reminded him of his situation. "Ugh. If we must." Gregory took out a pair of black gloves from his trousers and put them on - not wanting to touch the varmint with his bare hands - he grabbed the mole up by its scruff and outwardly grimaced. "I'm going to regret this..." He said silently to himself. Gregory shut his eyes and quickly gave the mole a quick peck on the lips. He then dropped the mole and proceeded to rid his mouth of any "germs" he might have acquired.

The mole then began to glow and floated up into the air. Gregory was speechless. A bright light then burst from the mole knocking over everything in its path including Gregory. When Gregory regained his balance, he saw an attractive boy - looking no older than he - standing before him, grinning wildly.

"Merci, Gregory. I shall go retrieve your sword." The boy formerly known as 'Ze Mole' walked over to a tree and kicked it until a shovel fell out and then he walked over to a small hole and he began to dig. He dug a hole about 5 feet deep and 3 feet wide before he stopped and hopped out of the hole with Gregory's rapier in hand.

"As promised." He pointed the sword at Gregory before smiling and turning the sword to carefully hand it to him. "We're even now, oui? Au revoir, Gregory of Yardale." The young french gentleman turned to leave but was quickly stopped by a blade closing in on his jugular.

"I'm not done with you, _Mole_." The blond threatened.

'Ze Mole' smirked. "What do you intend to gain by killing me?"

"My dignity."

'Ze Mole' laughed. "Ees zat so..." With one finger he moved the sword away from his neck with ease and turned to face his assailant. "Zat would not be a very wise thing to do... considering your current condition."

"What are you talking about? I have the upper hand in this situatio-" He suddenly lost his balance and fell to his knees dropping his sword. "What's..."

"I see. Eet's just as 'e said, '_To get rid of your curse you must first pass it unto anozher...'"_

"What did you do to me... you bastard!"

"Nozhing. Also, my real name is Christophe. It was nice meeting you..." He blew the now somewhat British boy a kiss and walked off into the distance.

"No! Change me back!" Gregory shouted as he slowly transformed into an ugly toad losing all signs of humanness. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" He cursed. "Now what?" He looked around searching for something - anything that would help him. He then spotted a golden ball bouncing past him and falling into a nearby well followed by a distressed little girl in a purple dress. Gregory smirked. "Hello, little girl... I can help you get your ball back... under one condition." He said as he hopped towards the girl.


End file.
